


What Am I To You?

by littlebunnyisgettingfatonhoney



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, First Kiss, First Times, Hurt!John, Hurt!John Watson, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Memory Loss, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-19
Updated: 2016-01-19
Packaged: 2018-05-15 00:43:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5765221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlebunnyisgettingfatonhoney/pseuds/littlebunnyisgettingfatonhoney
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John has lost his memory and cannot remember who Sherlock Holmes, his boyfriend, is. Sherlock is devastated and attempts to tell John who he was to him.</p><p>*incomplete, chapters to come*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So sorry for any typos, grammatical errors and anything that doesn't sound quite right!

"Hello John. Are you okay?" Sherlock asked as he slipped through the door into the hospital room where John was. 

"Uh, yeah. Thanks."

Sherlock gave John a bit of an odd look. He wasn't expecting such a simple answer. 

"Well, since you had a bit of a head trauma and the doctors said you'll be alright, I reckon you're ready to come back to the flat." 

John knit his brow. "Uh, no..? I don't think so?" He sat up from the bed. "I'm sorry but you must think I'm someone else. I’m John Watson." 

Sherlock almost gasped. "No, no, John." He almost breathed a light, nervous laugh. "It's Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes. Ring a bell?" 

"No, I'm sorry... I don't know you." John said sincerely. 'The poor man must think I'm someone else.' He thought. 

"No! You know me! You do! We solve crimes together, your bl- Oh, your blog!" 

Sherlock rapidly dug out his phone and quickly tapped into Google, 'the blog of john h watson'. He clicked the first result and almost shoved the smartphone at John. 

"Scroll through it. Read some of the entries." Sherlock felt his throat constrict. The entire time between John and him... Had John completely forgotten? 

John looked up from the phone. "I never... I never wrote any of these, much less did what they all say. It's impossible." 

Sherlock ran a hand through his hair. 

"Who were you to me, Mr. Holmes?" John said his name as if it was a foreign one he had never once said. 

"I was..." The question caused Sherlock's voice to crack, feeling as if speaking would cause him to start an outbreak of tears. 

What was Sherlock to John? Did John love him the way he loved John? 

"I was your friend." 

John looked the man in the eyes. Impossible."If you are who you say your are... Why don't I remember? Why can I remember anything to do with you?”

"You were injured while we were on the tail of Donald Daratzits who had recently been apart of a gigantic hate crime; which I solved while you were here, by the way.”

"Sorry, can I ask what work you do?" John asked as he absentmindedly rubbed his temple. 

“Consulting detective. And we used to do that often, you know, chase after criminals. Except I wasn't expecting him to attack you. A swift blow to the head from a crowbar and then you stumbled backward and hit your head again against a mass wall of metal pipes. Oh John, there was blood everywhere. And apparently, lost an extreme amount of your memory." 

John nodded, processing it. Christ, this didn't sound real. Sounded like a shitty spy movie. He looked Sherlock up and down. Sherlock wondered what he thought of him, since this was the 'first' impression.

"John... What do you remember?" 

John pondered for a moment. "I remember... I remember being a soldier. In Afghanistan. And a doctor, I remember Harry and James. I got shot, in the arm. They sent me back to London. After that… I can't recall.”

It seemed that John had remember everything prior to their first meeting. 

Sherlock swallowed. "That's all?"

"Yeah. Did I forgot a lot?"

Sherlock shut his eyes and shook his head gently while smiling. 

"No. But, I have a question."

"Yeah?" 

"Do you recall when we..."

"What we what?"

Sherlock smiled sadly. "I'll tell you."


	2. Sherlock is a dramatic storytellers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock tells the story of John and his first kiss

"John, we need to hurry up, I've got about seven minutes to meet-" Sherlock was interrupted by his hacking cough that made even his eyes tear up. 

He was about to get up from his lying position on the sofa before John peeked his head out of the kitchen. 

"Yeah, I don't think so."

"What?"

"Listen to yourself, you're sick as a dog. I'm not about to let you meet up with some strange person when you're ill and it's raining outside."

"John, what are you-! It doesn't matter! I need to GO!" 

John shot Sherlock a look. "Let me take your temperature." 

"I actually used our thermometer in an experiment, it's currently dipped in rubber cement." Sherlock said more or less without remorse. 

"Sherlock, you are bloody ridiculous. You're going to have to get a new one, you know.” John scolded. 

“Yes, yes, I will, AFTER I attend my meeting.” Sherlock said as he gesticulated in dramatic effect. 

“It's not even a meeting. More like a way for you to be abducted by meeting up with a strange person who is a key suspect in this case. He could have gun.” John muttered. 

“I have a gun!” Retorted Sherlock with an eye roll and accompanying huff. 

John ignored Sherlock until he heard obnoxious sniffs and coughs and throat clearing. “I guess I can take your temperature another way."

 

Sherlock raised an eyebrow as he lowered his elbow away from his mouth and wiped the tears from his eyes. 

John walked over to Sherlock's sprawled out body on the sofa and Sherlock's eyes followed him. John lowered his body a bit and his lips hovered above Sherlock's forehead. Suddenly, Sherlock's pulse began to quicken and he swallowed hard. John delayed for a second, just a second longer than what would have been seemly. He could have easily and casually pressed his hand to Sherlock's his temperature and declared he was sick. 

But he didn't do it like that. Not at all. He hesitated. John gingerly pressed his lips to Sherlock's forehead and let them rest there another second longer. 

"John." It wasn't an inquiry. More of a reassurance, maybe. 

Impulsively, indecorously, and very much incredibly, Sherlock lifted both of his hands to the sides of John's head and lowered his lips to be parallel with his own and he did indeed kiss John Watson. 

It wasn't a passionate, sexy French kiss. No, it was... It showed gentleness, kindness, concern. It was perhaps desperate. Many, many times Sherlock had wanted to kiss John, wanted to hold his face and place kisses all around it. Never had the chance to. Didn't want to scare him off, he would tell himself. John didn't, John couldn't love him. John, yes, was obviously bisexual and yes, Sherlock had refused him in the beginning but Sherlock felt himself betraying his morals and quickly fell in complete and utter love with John. 

So he was completely astonished when John hadn't retracted in lightening speed and started swearing. 

John held Sherlock tightly and kissed him in such a loving way, a way Sherlock had never seen him kiss any of his girlfriends, never imagined John could kiss him in that way. He never thought this is what it would be like to kiss his beloved John. Sherlock had pictured John’s soft lips pressed against his own but he had never been able to understand what it felt like to have John’s hands around his head, John’s lips tousling his own, John’s breath quiet and almost frightened. John shut his eyes rather romantically but Sherlock could not. Of course, he had kissed people for God’s sake, some experimentals in secondary school but those were all hungry,  
desperate, settle-for-almost-anyone kisses due to loneliness and longing to be intimate with someone. That's how he often felt even with John around. He certainly couldn't cuddle with John since he always seemed to have a girlfriend that's relationship ended in a few months. Sherlock hated to admit but every time that he was at fault for the end of John's relationship, he was immensely pleased. The girlfriend would get jealous over him! It was truly wonderful. Sherlock and John kissed for what seemed hours; wonderful and worthwhile hours. Sure, Sherlock was sick and his nose was a bit stuffy and he was making ill noises but John kissed him all the same. 

“You should have told me.” John quietly remarked while he panted. They hadn't made out, no, nothing that required laborious tongue work but John was breathless. Sherlock, someone he had found interest in from the start, Sherlock, the one who refused every attempt at relationships, Sherlock! 

Sherlock sat up, flushing red, his lips parted. He gingerly lifted his fingers and lightly touched his bottom lip. “I'm sorry.” 

John reached for Sherlock’s hand and held it, not knowing what to say. For once, Sherlock was at loss for words. 

“John, I'm sorry. For not… Telling you sooner. Or… Yes. Sorry.” Sherlock muttered, toying with his own hand. 

John nodded, both of them not needing words to understand what each other meant.


End file.
